Assist & Desist
by Iloveplotbunnies
Summary: She had briefly wondered if her team, as Red John had suggested, simply thought she could handle herself.


**Title: **Assist & Desist

**Disclaimer: **It's 2014 and I still don't own The Mentalist. Sigh.

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **She had briefly wondered if her team, as Red John had suggested, simply thought she could handle herself.

Written for my H/C Bingo card. Prompt: Bites.

You really don't need to have watched S6 to read this, as I've not gone into Red John's identity.

Enjoy!

I.

Hobbling through the bullpen, Lisbon glared at anyone who stopped to stare at her. It was hard enough trying to be graceful on crutches, let alone avoiding the water cooler gossip on why she had a brace around her ankle; and she didn't want the talk furthering, outside the fact that she had taken a rather nasty fall during a suspect tackle. The doctor had told her to "take it easy for the next four to six weeks", but she was already dying for the damned thing to come off as she caught Rigsby's chuckle in her direction.

Instead of yelling at him, she merely focused her attention on trying to yank a chair from under the table to sit on with one hand. She knew she couldn't put all of her weight on her bad ankle, which meant she had to keep herself upright with one leg.

"Let me help you, boss," Van Pelt offered from her desk.

Lisbon shook her head, irritated. She could do this herself! "No. I'm fine," she replied, before she managed to collapse into the chair with a relived sigh.

II.

_It won't be the last time I'll want to kill him_, Lisbon thought with a grimace as she stared down at the pile of ongoing paperwork caused by Jane's antics. Hightower had asked her to finish the paperwork before she went home for the night; but the clock was already at five till midnight and she wasn't even halfway through the damned pile.

Sipping at her lukewarm coffee, Lisbon bought her pen down to the paper and fought back a yawn. She knew it was her own fault for the paperwork (and her tiredness), as Jane had kept her on an "illegal sting" the night before to catch their murderer in action. Because of the sting, she was only running on three hours of sleep and not enough caffeine to care what Director Gale Bertram would eventually say to her about the operation.

She had halfway written out the word "apologized", when her focus was interrupted by someone knocking on her office door. She glanced up to find Cho standing in her doorway and she shot him a tired smile.

"Need any help before I leave for the night, boss?"

Lisbon glanced back down at her paperwork. It wasn't Cho's responsibility to complete her paperwork, as he wasn't head of the Serious Crimes Unit or responsible for Patrick Jane's idiotic stunts. "No, Cho. I should be done soon." They probably both knew it was a lie, but Cho knew better than to call her on it. "Thanks anyway for the offer, though. See you tomorrow."

"Night, boss."

"Night, Cho."

III.

Seth Lawson vaguely reminded Lisbon of her first suspect years ago, back when she had worked under the guidance of Samuel Bosco. Her first—Uriel Thompson—had been a piece of work; ruthless, cold and had carried with him a hatred of the world that had supposedly robbed him of his wife, his job and his respect.

Seth, Lisbon noticed, was no different. When she had brought the young man in, he had reeked of garbage and had made sexist comments against both her and Van Pelt before she had finally tossed him into lockdown. Bosco had once told her that these suspects, the ones who had nothing more to lose, were the most dangerous types of criminals (aside from serial killers) that she would ever encounter on the job.

She eyed Seth through the two-way window, while Rigsby stood next to her. Jane had refused the offer to interrogate Seth based on his "so-called innocence", which meant that Rigsby had automatically stepped into offer some assistance. Clutching the file to her chest, she started toward the next room when Rigsby called out to her.

"Want me in there, boss?"

Bosco had told her never go at these types of suspects alone, but she was stronger than she used to be. She had a loaded gun, a set of handcuffs and she knew how to keep her cool.

"No. Stay here, Rigsby," Lisbon ordered, before she entered the conjoining interrogation room.

IV.

"Agent Lisbon," Director Gale Bertram said, before he met her steady gaze. She said nothing, as she waited for his lecture on her earlier behavior to come. "What you and Mr. Jane did today was completely ridiculous, endangering and not to mention, costly. I have had over fifty voicemails in the past two hours from the media and from wealthy benefactors, who have all decided that they want your heads for how you tackled the Johnson debacle."

She heard Jane scoff from next to her. "Penny Johnson was a serial rapist, who thought she could get away with the abduction, rape and murder of nearly fifteen boys from the ages of eight to thirteen-years old." Lisbon watched Gale blink. "So in my opinion, _Gale_, you can kindly tell those benefactors to…"

"Jane!" Lisbon interrupted, hastily. While she agreed with Jane's rather odd assessment of the entire thing, she knew they couldn't say _any of that _to the Director of the CBI. Jane glanced at her, grimacing. "I'm sorry, sir…"

"I don't think either of you realize the seriousness of your predicament, Agent Lisbon," Bertram interrupted, frowning. "It's either my job or yours, Agent; and we both know I can't afford the bad publicity this year."

Of course, he couldn't. Lisbon almost rolled her eyes at the typical political response from Gale Bertram, asshole extraordinaire. It was a reelection year for the position and Lisbon had almost wondered what it would be like to have a Director, who actually understood their predicament and tried to keep her at the CBI for actually bringing down a wealthy serial rapist.

"I understand, sir." Lisbon didn't even try to defend herself, as Bertram pushed the all-too familiar suspension paperwork toward her. She took one of the ink pens from his desk and prepared herself to sign the agreement.

Jane, however, had other ideas.

"Suspension?" Jane said, after a moment of silence. "Lisbon didn't do anything wrong! We…"

"Jane!" Lisbon repeated, clenching her teeth. She didn't want him to become a hero for leveraging his position or information for her job _again_, as Jane only had so much dirt against the Director. "I don't need or want your help, Jane."

Jane remained silent, even after Bertram had dismissed them both from his office.

V.

Lisbon's chin lulled against her bare chest; her arms hung above her head with her eyes closed, as she limply hung against a cool cellar wall in the nude. She shivered against the chill, causing her body to spasm in pain from the "tender, loving care" that she had received from Red John and his minions.

The darkness seemed to settle around her and without doors or windows, she had no idea how long she had been with him. Lisbon had last remembered entering her home, anticipating the four-day weekend away from Jane and his antics, when someone had grabbed her from behind.

"You're going on an extended vacation, Teresa," Red John had explained, after she had learned that he was behind her kidnapping. "Director Bertram has approved your time off, your luggage and clothing are gone from your hellhole of an apartment and I've got your phone to delay your team." To her, Red John had seemed very proud of this accomplishment. "Now, we get to play. I have to be honest, my pet, I am excited to see what makes you tick."

Lisbon had glared. "What makes you think I'll want to play with you, asshole?" Red John had lost his smirk at her words.

"Oh, you will," Red John had reassured her. "After all, everyone has a breaking point and you are no different." She had watched him step aside, before one of his men had taken his place with a pair of scissors.

Lisbon had steeled her emotions; she had known he wasn't going to kill her, especially when she had so much to "offer" him. However, Red John was both unpredictable and dangerous, which frightened her the most as she waited for the first cut. She had closed her eyes at the cool pressure of metal against her skin, but the sudden rush of cold water had caused her eyes to shoot open again. It was then she had noticed that Red John's "lovely" minion had cut through all of her clothing, leaving her exposed and cold to anyone who happened to find her.

Red John had held a bucket in his grasp, a cold smirk on his face as he had leered at her body and she had shivered. Unprotected and freezing, she realized the seriousness of her situation. He had stripped her of _all _clothing and she was hanging in front of him, much like a piece of meat. Eventually, she had realized, he would have broken her spirit by using her body against her.

"Don't worry, Teresa," Red John had tried to soothe her. "I'm not about to touch you. You'll beg for it soon enough, after all."

She had no idea how long it had been since that first conversation. She only knew she couldn't take much more of this torture; her mouth was bone-dry, her body kept trying to dry heave from the lack of food and above all else, she was beginning to hallucinate. Out of everything she had ever suffered through though, the hallucinations were the worst.

In her most recent one, she had thought Jane was with her. She had allowed for him to treat her wounds from Red John's little "trust exercise" and she had eventually allowed the consultant to kiss her. Jane's kiss hadn't been tender, like she had once imagined it would be on a whim. It had been rough and forceful; Jane had forced his tongue down her throat and too weak to push him away, she had remained until the mental fog had cleared and Red John stood inches from her.

"Feeling alright, Teresa?" Red John had mockingly asked her. She had said nothing and his laughter had filled her ears. "Who are you imagining, Teresa? Patrick?" She had heard him scoff. "If he truly cared about you, he would have found you already. Your team would have already found you, but I guess they think Little Miss Fierce can handle herself. After all, I like a woman, who never asks for help."

Red John's response had provoked an irrational fear with her; her team had been excellent at solving murders, catching murderers, and finding kidnap victims (more than Missing Persons, anyway), yet they hadn't found her. She had briefly wondered if her team, as Red John had suggested, simply thought she could handle herself.

In response, she had kicked out at him and her leg had managed to connect with his crouch. Surprised and in pain, Red John had collapsed to his knees and she had kicked him again.

"You stupid bitch!" Red John had said, after he had managed to stand again. She had glanced away from him. "It looks like I'll be teaching you a lesson, after all."

She had watched him remove his belt and fold the strap in half, before he had lashed her legs with it. He had hit and hit and hit, until no inch of her skin (according to him, after she had regained consciousness) was left unbruised and she believed him with how much it still hurt to move.

"Good morning, my pet," Red John's cheery voice caused her stare at him, unblinkingly, while he ran his fingers over her face. "Have you thought anymore about my offer?"

Lisbon said nothing. She didn't want to join him. She didn't want to be his mistress.

"No words today, Teresa? Where is the little woman, who tackled men twice her size? Broken, perhaps?" She didn't glare. "If only Patrick Jane could see you now; he'd call you pathetic. Your whole team would, in fact."

"Shut up," she managed with her voice at a whisper.

Red John laughed. "Save your voice, Teresa. I enjoy my women vocal."

She glanced up at him in disgust. "Never. Go to hell."

"In case you haven't noticed, my dearest Teresa, you are in hell," Red John explained, chuckling. "A hell you'll never be able to escape from." She watched as he stepped closer and removed his glove, before she felt his cool fingers dance across her abdomen. "I know we agreed you would beg first, but I'm awfully impatient."

Red John snapped his fingers and in a single movement, she was removed from the wall.

"I can't wait to see what makes you tick, Teresa," Red John repeated to her, after he had carried her through the darkness and into his bedroom. Lisbon kept her concentration on the ceiling, unwilling to let his dirty lips affect her as they bit into her neck. "I will make you cry out, Teresa. You'll always…"

The sound of gunshots rang out and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to face anyone like this, especially not nude and vulnerable as the weight of Red John vanished from her body.

"Boss?" She kept her eyes closed at Van Pelt's voice. Lisbon wanted them all to go away.

"Teresa," she heard Jane say, before she felt something warm being placed over her body. "Let us help you, please? We're family."

And without another moment of hesitation, Lisbon opened her eyes.


End file.
